I realise I haven’t blogged for ages. The truth is that during the Brighton Festival things get a little bit crazy. Not only do Rattle Tales have their regular Fringe Festival show but my husband, Rob, exhibits his fantastic photographs at The Gloobah House on The Dyke Road Arts Trail (part of the AOH), and then I try to see as much as I can at the Festivals. So this month is all parties and art, readings and theatrical events. It’s great fun!

Tomorrow I’m attending the Book Group in the Pub at The Chimney House in Port Hall, they have been kind enough to read Starlings and tomorrow they have invited me along to discuss it. On Friday I’m going to see Bullet Catch at The Spiegeltent, the festival brochure describes it thus;

The Bullet Catch is the greatest challenge for any illusionist. A stunt so dangerous that even the great Houdini refused to attempt it, it has claimed the lives of numerous illusionists, assistants and spectators since its conception in 1613.

Now, with a little help from his audience, modern-day marvel William Wonder presents a theatrical magic show featuring storytelling, mind-reading, levitation, games of chance and – if you’re brave enough to stay for it – the most notorious finale in showbusiness. Tense and thought-provoking, it balances suspense and humour with a perceptive exploration of despair and of the nature of choice.

On Sunday it’s the outdoor extravaganza Faust at BHASVIC, (better make the most of the car park before Michael Gove builds a free school on it!). This looks like it will be amazing, updated Gatsby-like to 1920s prohibition with fire displays and boxing rings. That reminds me, I need to fit Gatsby in somewhere, I can’t wait to see it, the soundtrack hasn’t stopped playing chez Mettler.

Next week is Rattle Tales 2nd Brighton Fringe show. Last year was a sell out success and we’ve just heard from our new venue The Brunswick in Hove, that it looks like this one will be too. There are only 7 tickets left so if you want one you’d better get one now. We’ve teamed up with Brighton & Hove Camera Club who have been given the stories in advance and will be providing projected images to accompany them on the night. I will be reading a new story about a certain deceased Prime Minister and I have to do a Yorkshire accent! It’s not that bad as I lived there for eighteen years but wish me luck anyway. There are fantastic stories from other Rattle Talers and from three guest authors; Paul McVeigh, Cahir McDaid, Craig Melvin and Shirley Golden. There really is something for everyone and we are thrilled to be one of the Independent’s festival picks. We’ll also be launching our anthology which really is something special. It will be available to buy in paperback and kindle soon.

Next weekend I’ve the Musik Kabarett with Nina Hagen and David McAlmont! And I’ve not even been near any Fringe shows yet. So much to see, so little time. I’m also thrilled to be writing again. It’s flowing like water and I’ve nearly completed my famous names collection.

Feedback. I can hear you groan from here. Feedback is that terrible entity writers both crave and loathe. It makes us better writers but it also makes us uncomfortably aware of our shortcomings. It’s a familiar scenario; you send off your story/poem/extract full of hope and good humour. You wait for weeks, months even, convinced that the recipient will be so blown away by your submission they will drop everything in deference to its brilliance and phone you immediately offering untold fame and fortune. Time passes and you forget, a little, but then one day, comes the ping on your inbox or the thud on your doormat and somehow you instinctively know what it is. It is the beginning of that terrible exchange that tells every writer at some point in their career that they are not as good as they think they are.

I’m always amazed how I know without looking that I’ve received a rejection. I suppose most good news is delivered by telephone but even so more often than not I’ll know a rejection before I open it. I wonder if this is because deep down there’s a bit of doubt there already, maybe I know what I submitted wasn’t as good as it could have been.

So, you open your email/letter and discover the bad news – you didn’t win that publishing deal/writer’s retreat/£15,000, you didn’t even get published in that online journal with a readership of around 50 people! And here’s the rub, your whole being screams that you want to know why and, at the same time, your whole being just wants to crawl under a duvet and wallow in self-pity. Knowing why is the last thing you want. In fact, whoever has judged you doesn’t know what they are talking about. They are in the wrong, not you, short-sighted imbeciles, wouldn’t know good writing if it bit them on the arse. That’s right isn’t it? Thinking like this means you can stay comfortable in your little cocoon of ignorance. You like your little cocoon of ignorance don’t you? I know I used to.

Over the years this has changed for me. When someone rejects my work I am no longer content with just NO. No won’t do. These days I want to know WHY? And if people haven’t told me why I invariably get back to them and ask. Am I mad? Maybe, but let me tell you about my last two rejections (possibly too strong a word) and the feedback I got.

The first came just before Christmas. It was only a flash piece, so it hadn’t taken long to do, but it was a great idea and it had been edited and refined over several drafts. I got a standard rejection about a week later, just ‘no thanks try again later’. That morning I had a workshop with two people I trust implicitly and as luck would have it I had sent them my story in advance of the meeting. They were so positive about it (and believe me, if they didn’t like it they would say so) that it made me wonder what the reason for the rejection was. So, rather than feeling sorry for myself I got back to my rejector and asked for feedback. This is what I was sent:

Hi Erinna,

I’m happy to give some feedback.

In all honesty, it was a close call! The piece is beautifully written and has some startling images. We particularly liked this: “Planes fell from the skies, their impacted carcasses landing softly on downy runways, like so many bulging toothpaste tubes,” and the thought of the earth as a snowball was striking.

However we thought the first paragraph was problematic. In the second, everything gets going – but the first seems too long. Would you consider cutting it?

There were also a few details that niggled – if everyone is dead, who is reporting on sky news (or is the idea that Sky News is the devil’s work)?

Whilst the idea that this is being narrated by one of the devil’s minions is a good one, it took a couple of readings to register the full implications of the last paragraph. I wonder if there is a way to make the information here more immediate – or to plant the idea of the battle between heaven and hell earlier?

If you felt like reworking the story we’d be keen to take another look. As I said, it was a close run thing.

And do you know what? – they’re right! The first paragraph is too long and there should be a hint as to the narrator earlier. I’d actually taken out the bit about toothpaste tubes because in my opinion it doesn’t fit, but I don’t agree with them about Sky News – everyone knows who their boss is! But isn’t this better than no thanks try again later? See how much more productive a little bit of feedback is?Even if the feedback isn’t as positive as this is wouldn’t you rather know the truth than fear the worst, or even labour under the misconception that it’s good when it isn’t?

I had more feedback on another submission last week, I didn’t ask for it and was surprised to get it, but it was very welcome and, again, totally on the button. What I thought was a wonderfully clever allusion was actually ineffective corniness and needed to go, but I would never have known this had it not been pointed out to me. There was also the usual pep talk about not giving up, about it being a very close thing and please re-submit. Far from being negative it was enlightening and confidence boosting.

As a member of Rattle Tales I give a lot of feedback. Our selection process is very stringent, we all read everything and make notes on each piece then we discuss each one in detail before we make our selections. We don’t give feedback as standard but we offer it in our notification emails. If writers want to take us up on the offer the notes on the discussion are there ready to use. We probably get a 50/50 request rate. I hope what we say helps. The thing is to give good feedback you have to have read the submission in detail and you have to know what good writing is if you don’t you shouldn’t be giving feedback in the first place. Also bear in mind that work is often rejected out of personal preference. At Rattle Tales we reject work which we don’t think will work in a live performance, the piece could be beautifully written, ground-breaking even, but if it doesn’t read aloud well we can’t take it. If you don’t ask for feedback you’ll not know why, you’ll assume it’s either rubbish or that we are philistines.

Some writers take it personally. We once had an email from someone, whose work we had rejected because it wasn’t a story, saying that if we ever felt brave enough to try something different we should get in touch with them. You could almost taste the bile on those words but, hopefully, if they really thought about what we’d said they would realise that we were right. If you receive feedback that really riles you put it aside for a couple of days then go back to it, read your writing with it in your mind and see if it’s right. If you still don’t agree fine, forget it and try somewhere else, it’s their loss.

These days I always ask for feedback, at the very least it ensures that the person rejecting my work has read it well enough to tell me why they didn’t want it.

The next Rattle Tales show is on Feb 20th at The Brunswick Hove tickets available here.

Share this:

Like this:

Contact me

Starlings long listed

Starlings has been long listed for the 2012 Edge Hill University Short Story Prize in a year with a record number of entries, sharing company with entries from Edna O'Brien, Hanan Al-Shaykh and Robert Minhinnick.